


Drarry Sestina: "Sometimes I dream I'm bleeding from my scars"

by julchen_in_red



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Poetry, Post-Hogwarts, Sestina, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 20:11:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14003784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julchen_in_red/pseuds/julchen_in_red
Summary: Draco's not okay, but he will be.





	Drarry Sestina: "Sometimes I dream I'm bleeding from my scars"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/gifts).



> For your line-ending words "push, scars, darkness, body, home, fly". Thank you so much for the challenge and the inspiration!

Sometimes I dream I’m bleeding from my scars.  
My shame soaks through my robes. I cannot push  
my hands beneath the fabric to my body.  
My blood tells all I’m only made of darkness.  
Discarded by the earth, I have no home.  
Rejected by the clouds, I cannot fly.

It wasn’t always so. I used to fly.  
I must once have been faultless, without scars.  
I knew the warmth of custom, clan, and home,  
a child who only sinned with pout and push.  
Then I was taught to snarl. They fed me darkness  
and pledged me to a fiend in soul and body.

You learn the limitations of the body  
without a wand. You’re cold, you cannot fly,  
you cannot quench your thirst or light the darkness.  
My master tore my clothes and mocked my scars  
and I was powerless to fight the push  
that flung me down the cellar stairs at home.

I trundle between Diagon and home  
so numb and disconnected from my body  
I’m yanking on a shop door labeled PUSH.  
I don’t remember how it feels to fly,  
to be more than my crimes, more than my scars,  
to feel at peace and unafraid of darkness.

A hand upon my shoulder in the darkness…  
Why is he on this ledge? He’s got a home,  
a life that’s not in ruins for his scars.  
He sits and puts his arm around my body.  
I cannot bring myself to fall nor fly.  
I don’t deserve his comfort, but a push.

He takes me home, half gentle tug, half push,  
and one of us is crying in the darkness  
or maybe both. I ask him how to fly.  
I ask him where one finds another home  
and how one puts a new soul in the body  
and how to keep my dreams behind my scars.

One push into his bedroom and we’re home.  
The darkness soothes me, safe against his body.  
I dream I fly with him. I have no scars.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr and Dreamwidth. Come say hi!


End file.
